


What I want

by Digidestined_Dude_15



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Keith (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Children, Coffee, Coffee Shops, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Muffins, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digidestined_Dude_15/pseuds/Digidestined_Dude_15
Summary: Keith was always so sure about what he wanted. After a fight with Shiro and an encounter with an ex-lover, Keith is left in a very difficult situation. It's a good thing he has a sexy, cuban barista in a coffee shop to come to his rescue, and take all of his pain away.Rating and description subject to change.





	What I want

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say that I'm so happy to be a part of the AO3 community! Been reading stories on here for months, solely on fanfiction before that. I have about 15 different Klance stories saved to my phone as quicklinks (my fav being Dirty Laundry). I have another account on Fanfiction under the name "Digidestined Dude 15" if anyone wants to see anymore of my work. 
> 
> I will ship Klance until the day I die, and pray to the gods that it becomes canon in season 7!!!
> 
> FYI, I just wanna say, after season six, Lotor deserves to be taken away for stealing muffins. Let him rot in hell.

Keith was unhappy. 

No, unhappy did not do his emotions justice. It was too weak a word to truly capture his feelings… He was downright pissed.

Sure, Keith wasn’t the happiest guy on the face of the Earth; the human population continued to disappoint him at every turn, and he generally did not find much joy in his life. He was especially aggravated today, however, because he just came from an argument (a rather loud one, in fact) with his adoptive brother, which resulted in Keith storming out of Shiro’s home and slamming the door behind him.

Keith had the day off from both school and work that day, and he decided that, rather than spend it at home scrolling through boring shows on Netflix or through profiles on Tinder and Grindr that were either blank or of unattractive men much older than himself, he would visit Shiro and his family.

After the events that transpired, Keith wished he had done one of the first two. Either one would have been better than what he had to endure.

The first thing Keith was greeted with when he walked through the door was the sound of a young child’s laughter, and immediately he had begun to regret this visit. He had forgotten about Alfor.

The one-year-old boy was sat up in a high chair, smashing a toy against the tabletop, while Shiro sat next to him. There was a bowl of food in front of him, and a spoon in his hand, and Shiro was apparently trying to get his son to eat. His wife sat to the other side of him, eating her own lunch and watching in amusement as Shiro attempted to feed Alfor. 

It wasn’t that Keith hated kids. He liked them. They were cute, and it could be entertaining to watch them interact with others and their environment. But they were such high maintenance, and required so much supervision that it outweighed the good he saw in children. They needed sleep, they needed to be changed, they needed food, they needed to be coddled if they were upset or hurt. And this was only when they were toddlers; he didn’t dare imagine what life may be like for Shiro and Allura when Alfor hit puberty.

Keith didn’t judge people for wanting kids; his brother and his wife seemed very happy with having their son in their life, but he most certainly didn’t want them himself; he was sure of that, and thanked whatever God had created him every day for making him gay. The last thing he wanted was to have a one-time fling with someone and then them showing up, nine months later, holding a screaming baby in their arms and asking for money and a life commitment.

Keith liked control. He liked balance. He liked predictability and the power to maintain or alter his life as desired. Children were unpredictable, and having them around for extended periods caused him distress and anxiety. He couldn’t predict what any child, let alone his nephew, would do from one minute to the next. He couldn’t get mad at kids for exploring, it wasn’t like they knew any better; they were still learning about their capabilities and what the world had to offer, and that made it difficult when Alfor would be playing loudly with his toys around him, or when he started babbling and Keith didn’t understand him. 

After initial greetings, Keith sat down and began talking with the couple. Alfor was busy gurgling to himself, and Shiro had abandoned trying to feed a child that was more interested in a lion plushie than creamed spinach. 

Eventually, the conversation shifted to Keith’s life. “You told me you went on a date last week. How did that go?” Shiro asked, picking up Alfor and setting him down on his knee and letting him play on the dining room table.

Keith remembered that date well. Rolo was his name, an engineering student at the local university, the same one he attended presently. Rolo wasn’t bad looking, hot even, but after sitting down with him for an hour he knew there wasn’t a spark between them, and that there probably would never` be a spark. More importantly, he wanted kids, and even if he didn’t want them yet, he still wanted them down the road and Keith didn’t want to bother investing in a relationship where they wanted different goals. He and Rolo both knew this, and they agreed that there was no future for them. 

“Yeah, didn’t go well,” Keith replied, leaning against his hand and glacing away. “He and I wanted different things. Last I hear, he’s off dating this other girl, Nyma. Saw them making out in the hallway just the other day. Whatever works for him, I suppose.”

Shiro was quick to pick up on Keith’s body language. He’d known Keith since his family adopted Keith when the latter was 12. Ten years later, Keith was still as easy for him to read as a book. “He wanted kids, didn’t he?” The words came out less like a question and more looking for verification of what he already knew. When he saw Keith tense up, Shiro knew he had his answer. “Look, I get that you don’t want kids right now, but can you at least learn to be a bit more open-minded? Eventually, there’s not gonna be any more guys to pick from because you’ll have rejected them all for that same reason.”

Keith scoffed. “Then I’ll die a lonely virgin,” he said in a snippy, sarcastic tone. “Suits me just fine. I don’t need kids to be happy.” 

Keith hated when Shiro got into this topic, hated it with a burning passion. It was a sensitive subject for him; he reminded himself every day not to settle for a guy who wants kids. He didn’t want to commit to a relationship and only take it so far as it took for the other guy to say, “Ok, I want kids now.” He saw no point in committing when the only future he saw was that of an ugly breakup and broken hearts. And yet, Shiro always felt the need to stick his nose in Keith’s life and tell him everything he already knew.

“But Keith, you never know what might happen down the road,” Allura felt the need to add. Keith found her no better than his brother, trying to reinforce the idea that Shiro and her were like a second set of parents for him. “I wasn’t planning on having Alfor for several more years. Shiro and I were terrified it wouldn’t work out for us, but we’re doing fine and everyone’s happy and healthy. Sometimes, having something unpredictable isn’t such a bad thing.”

Another thing that got under Keith’s skin was when someone used their own life examples to promote their points. It drove Keith wild when they tried to say that one very unlikely scenario, one that works out for everyone involved, was what you could expect from it, when it was more likely something would go wrong.

Shiro and Allura both had good careers, they had found an excellent childcare agency, made decent income, had a roof over their heads and they got to spend all of their Saturdays home together with their child. This was one scenario that turned out in their favor. There were thousands of different ways that Shiro’s and Allura’s situation could have been less than perfect; Shiro breaking his back at work and removing their biggest source of income; Alfor, being unplanned, could have been born underdeveloped or disfigured; the stress of having a family could have caused either to mentally snap and they could start fighting or getting into bad habits. Any of these scenarios was just as likely to happen as the last, and were much more likely to happen than what did, at least from Keith’s perspective.

Keith was not in the mood to let them lecture him right now. “Just drop it, ok? I don’t wanna hear about how your stupid accidently pregnancy somehow turned out miraculously and now you’re all living in this little dream world where everything is just freaking peachy.”

Shiro’s expressed turned sour from his brother’s words. “Keith!” 

“Don’t “Keith” me, Shiro! I really couldn’t give a damn that your life turned out just fine, but just shut up and keep your nose out of my life!” Keith rebutted, glaring daggers at the man across the table. “I’m tired of having to explain myself to you. I don’t want kids, I never wanted kids, and I don’t want to be with someone who wants what I don’t! I don’t know how much clearer I can make that! You don’t get to judge me because I know what I’m looking for. If I wanna be alone the rest of my life because everyone else wants something that I don’t then that’s fine by me! It’s my life, damn it!”

The sound of Alfor’s cheerful laughter turning suddenly into distraught crying let Keith know that he had overstayed his welcome; the shocked and hurt expressions on Shiro’s and Allura’s faces reassured him of that. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and ran out the door, ignoring his brother shouting his name and Allura trying to calm their child with soft shushes. He made sure to slam the door behind him, just to spite the two of them. When he heard Alfor crying even louder than before from the startling noise, and both his parents trying to soothe him, he smirked to himself and ran.

As his legs carried him far away from Shiro’s house and down the streets of his hometown, the guilt that had laid dormant within Keith from before had just now started to surface, and he now felt like shit. Not only had he essentially told his brother to go to hell after trying to help, but he hurt the both of them, and made their child cry as well. As patient as Shiro was with Keith, and lord knows that Keith had pushed his buttons more than once, Keith knew that he probably wouldn’t be going back there for a while to come. 

Keith sighed as he walked along the sidewalk. As much as he was hating himself for what he said and did, he didn’t regret it. Every word he said was true. This was not the first time Shiro and Keith had had this argument, with Shiro trying to make him keep an open mind and Keith telling him to stay out of his life. Shiro should have known by now that Keith was not interested in his advice on life, much less his opinions on who he should be dating. It took him 22 years to finally get a handle on his life, and he’d be damned if he let Shiro try and alter that. 

Keith tried not to think about his past failures, but they all seemed to come rushing back to him whenever he was mad. It took him an extra year to get through high school, after getting expelled from one school and having to wait until the next year to get into another. Some punk that was considered “Mr. Popular” one day viscously called Keith a “fag” in the middle of the lunch room. He had just come out that week, his emotions were still very high and unstable, and the idea of someone using his identity as a weapon against him had drove him mad. Without thinking of the consequences, Keith punched him in the face and broke his nose. He didn’t realize when he was doing it that he would be punching the son of the principle, a principle who was already hard enough to deal with regularly. He was expelled practically on the spot.

When Keith got into university after finally finishing high school, he fell very far behind all of his classmates. The information was very hard for Keith to understand; it was on a completely different level than what he was capable of on his own. He couldn’t find anyone to tutor him, Shiro was away in another town studying and couldn’t help him, and as a result he failed several of his courses in first semester. He took the rest of the year off from university and never went back again.

Keith spent the rest of that year and all of the following one working two jobs he hated with aggravating co-workers to pay off his student loans. How much he wanted to quit, get away from all of the annoying people that only seemed to want to goof around or bitch about management, but he refused to let those people be the reason that he would still be in debt for years to come.

Keith could think of multiple other failures that briefly crossed his mind, but chose not to focus on any of them in favor of getting something to eat. He skipped breakfast, large in part because he was behind on groceries, and considering how he told Shiro and Allura off not too long ago, he doubted they would feed him. With a coffee shop just up the street, he figured a cup of coffee and a muffin couldn’t hurt.

Keith stared briefly at the door to the coffee house, the name “Voltron Cafe” frosted onto the glass in animated letters. Strange name, but he’d seen stranger names for even stranger places. As he opened the door, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted pass him; it smelled heavenly. The brief jittery feeling he got from just the aroma of the coffee already put him in a better mood, and he was sure that sipping a cup of that blessed godly nectar would only further elate him. 

He waited patiently in line, watching the few people in front of him place their orders, and subsequently be served said orders not long after. Each one walked off seemingly happy with their orders. They were fast, Keith gave them that. Hopefully they could put their money where their mouth-

“Keith?”

That voice… Deep. Elegant. Laced with a charming British accent. Keith was all too familiar with it. So familiar that just the one sample of it had caused Keith’s blood to turn cold almost instantly. His eyes widened profusely, and his breath was caught in his mouth. A feeling of panic began to overtake him.

Keith was afraid to turn around. He wanted that voice to be only in his head. He didn’t want the person who it belonged to, to be standing behind him. Every indication said that the person was facing his back, no more than 3 feet away, but still Keith prayed he was imagining things. He couldn’t look back. He was terrified that he knew who it was, and he wanted it to be anyone but who he expected. 

Maybe if he just ignored the voice and ordered his coffee, it would go away. Yeah, that could work. Let’s try that.

“Next please!”

A new voice filled Keith’s ears, this one much more pleasant. Keith eagerly stepped up to the counter, coming face to face with the cashier. Keith studied him briefly. He was tall, at least a few inches taller than Keith. His short, dark brown hair contrasted nicely with his caramel-tan colored skin, and made the cerulean blue in the man’s eyes much more prominent. As well as the uniform that all of the employees seemed to wear, he wore a warm, inviting smile. It encouraged anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon it to have a wonderful day. It gave Keith comfort as he tried to ignore the person he hoped was not behind him.

“Welcome to Voltron!” the man said, his faint Cuban accent just now catching Keith’s attention. “The name’s Lance. What can I get for you?”

“Keith.” Just ignore the voice, Keith told himself. He wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible.

“I’ll um…” Keith reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled it out with shaking hands. “have a large black lion coffee, and a… b-balmera muffin?” Keith didn’t know what a Balmera was, but a glance in the display case showed an oatmeal muffin with a streak of what looked like chocolate whipped cream running down the back, and several other blue spikes flowing in the same direction. It looked delicious, and Keith was intent on sinking his teeth into-

“Keith! I know you can hear me!”

Keith cringed at the sound that terrified him so greatly, especially because it was getting progressively louder. “T-To go…”

Lance gave him a questioning look, but nodded all the same and single-handedly tapped the order into the screen in front of him. Keith paid the total that was asked of him and waited anxiously while Lance left to procure his food. Very quickly did Keith feel a lot more vulnerable. He had no one to talk to, no one that he could use as a reason to pretend he couldn’t hear the voice behind him, the voice that seemed to be getting louder and less patient each time it spoke. He suddenly wished he’d kept his mouth shut at Shiro’s; if he had, he wouldn’t be in this situation.

Keith felt a grab at his wrist and quickly he was spun around in place. With his backside pressed firmly against the edge of the counter, he was now face to face with his ex-lover. He couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t pretend that he was hearing things. He didn’t have Lance to help him. He was alone.

With Lotor.

“Keith, will you please hear me out?” the man spoke, his tone still showing agitation but at the same time filled with remorse. “I’m terribly sorry for what I did to you. What can I do to make it right?”

That voice, which used to make him feel nothing but contentment and security, now only caused him grief and shame. Make it right? Did he really think he could just walk up to him in a random coffee shop and Keith would just forgive him? As if it were something simple as stealing his lunch or checking out other people?

Being forced to look at Lotor’s face, his narrow, blue iris’ staring into his soul, Keith thought back to that miserable night. It brought a shiver to him as memories of that night came rushing back. 

Drunk as he was at the time, the images weren’t clear, but Keith remembered the odd taste in his mouth as he sipped a concoction that Lotor had made for him. He remembered the pain in his ankle that twisted as he was dragged to the upstairs bedroom, and the loss of breath from being thrown ferociously against the wall, forced into an aggressive and impromptu make out session. He remembered the feeling of Lotor’s rugged hands running up and down his body, tearing his clothes off as fast as possible. He remembered the pain that flooded his system. He remembered the taste of his own tears falling into his mouth from the constant thrusting motions his body was forced to make. He remembered the humiliating sound of a camera phone shutter capturing him forever when it was over.

Each memory was as painful as the last. The only thing keeping Keith from crying out was the memory of Shiro slamming open the door and punching Lotor in the face. It was at that point that Keith’s recollection of that night runs empty. Still, Shiro wasn’t here. He couldn’t save him from Lotor this time. He was alone. Lotor’s grasp on him, metaphorical and physical alike, was just as powerful and frightening as he remembered it. 

Keith spent months after the event trying to avoid Lotor. They went to different universities, his being in another town, which made that job much easier. Lotor’s course work was even heavier than was Keith’s, and that left very little time for him to come see him and apologize. 

At some point, trying to catch up in University and trying to move on with his love life, Keith must have forgotten about Lotor, because it had completely slipped his mind that Lotor adored this place; he raved about it when they were together, saying it was the best coffee anywhere in town. They had never come in together, only passed by the building once or twice, but he remembered seeing the lion-themed logo on to-go cups that Lotor always seemed to have in hand.

“Lotor…” Keith began, but was cut short when Lotor’s hands raced from his wrists to his shoulders. Instinctively, Keith’s fists raised defensively to his torso, though more to keep some space between him and Lotor than to defend himself. 

“Keith, please.” Lotor’s grip on his shoulders was beginning to hurt, and brought a groan from his mouth. “You know you cannot ignore me forever. I still have feelings for you and I know you still have feelings for me. I was intoxicated, I shouldn’t be held accountable for my actions. Can we please sit down and talk about that night?”

No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. Fat fucking chance. These words and many more like them were racing through Keith’s mind, all synonymous with telling Lotor to piss off and that he didn’t have feelings for him anymore. He didn’t want to think about that night. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted it to be erased from his memory; to wake up and not feel like he had been violated by the person he treasured most. He wanted to forget that his boyfriend drugged and raped him in the upstairs bedroom of a frat party, despite Keith begging him desperately to stop, and then felt compelled to take a picture of his conquest. Keith never saw that picture, of him lying in bed, naked with his legs spread wide open; Shiro made damn sure of that by smashing Lotor’s phone to bits. 

And yet, seeing the sorrowful expression that was washing over Lotor’s face, his eyes pleading for a second chance, and the powerful grip that Lotor held over both his shoulders and his heart, Keith couldn’t find it in himself to say any of those words. He was mesmerized by that look, just as much as he was back when they were dating. He hated himself for being so weak, but if Lotor was truly sorry for what he had done, maybe it was worth sitting down and-

Keith’s train of thought was interrupted with the front door of the coffee house slamming open, creating a loud thud as it collided with the wall. In marched two police officers, both looking like they were in hot pursuit of a suspect. One was holding a gun, and the other was carrying a set of handcuffs. “Nobody move!” one shouted firmly, her deep voice ringing throughout the quiet shop. Her grip on the gun was firm and unwavering. 

“That’s him, officers!” Lance’s voice rung behind him. He turned his neck to see Lance standing there at the register, Keith’s coffee in one hand, the other pointing squarely at Lotor. The stern expression on his face was surprising to Keith; he was right chipper when he was taking Keith’s order, and now he looked like Lotor had just kicked his puppy. His brow was furrow, eyes locked onto Lotor’s with precision. “He’s the one that’s been harassing customers all day! Had his hands all over them, yelling at them, begging them for second chances or whatever… Oh! And he threatened to steal all the balmara muffins if he didn’t get his way! The atrocity!”

The officer with the handcuffs scoffed in Lotor’s direction. “Stealing the balmara muffins, eh? You people make me SICK!” his voice, the rage it presented, made it sound like Lotor was planning to rob a bank. Keith would normally have laughed at the idea of Lotor being arrested for stealing muffins – he almost did when Lotor’s hands shot upward, like he knew he was guilty – if not for the seriousness of the situation. “Hands behind your head, punk!”

Keith glanced back at Lance. He appeared to be doing his best to keep a straight face, but the corners of his lips were quivering, just threatening to pull upward into a smirk. Multiple questions came to mind. What did he do? Did he call the cops? How did they get here so quick? 

Most importantly, why did Lance help him?

Keith watched Lotor be escorted from the coffee shop by the two very angry police officers, baffled at the sight of Lotor with his hands tied behind his back in handcuffs. He was sputtering out excuses, saying they had the wrong person and the like, but they still pushed him out the door like a rag doll. Keith was still trying to process the whole situation when Lance came out from around the counter.

“Hey, he’s gone now,” Lance said, his voice acting like a security blanket; it was soft, soothing, and compassionate. It gave Keith a sense of grounding. His fear had since dissolved, long forgotten as he stared into crystal clear pools of blue that showed him empathy. “You gonna be ok?”

Lance cautiously reached for Keith’s shoulder, laying his tanned, long fingers on Keith’s broad shoulder with a tender touch. Keith could feel the tension from earlier melt away at Lance’s finger tips, the urge to run away fading quickly. No one, not even Shiro, had been able to do that before. Keith spent months with a therapist and choking back antidepressants to feel better after Lotor, burned everything Lotor had ever given him, blocked him on all social media accounts, even moved to a different apartment, just for a small bit of closure and peace; some space from the person that had destroyed him.

Lance took away all of that suffering with just one touch. The grip was gentle, as if afraid that Keith would shatter if it was any tighter, but was made to let him know it was there. It was firm, reassuringly so, communicating a desire to stay where it was until Keith shrugged it off. Each second that Lance’s hand remained, Keith could feel more of his negative feelings being syphoned away. 

Keith didn’t want him let go. He wanted Lance to stand there, right in front of him, with Lance’s arm on his shoulder, and stare into Lance’s eyes. However, despite how happy he was in that moment of time, he realized that the two of them had been standing like this for more than 2 minutes, not saying a word, and Lance was now using his free hand to snap in front of his face. Others from around the shop had long since forgotten the incident with Lotor, and were now staring at the two of them. Very quickly did Keith’s sense of peace turn into a feeling of awkwardness, and his face responded just as fast by turning his cheeks a brilliant tinge of red.

“Hey! Come on, buddy, stay with me!” Lance said, continuing to snap his fingers with increasing vigor. “Bad man gone now! I repeat, bad man gone now!”

Keith snorted a laugh, but he found the sound it produced to be just as embarrassing as the audience’s stares and brought his hand to cover his mouth, accidently knocking off Lance’s hand in the process. He immediately missed the touch, missed the warmth, of Lance’s fingers pressing against his jacket. He felt less secure with them there, but Lance’s eyes still watching over him still provided him with the reassurance he craved. 

When he saw Lance flash him a grin, taking note of how blindingly white his teeth were and how much cuter he looked showing them off, Keith lowered the hand from his mouth and nodded. “Um, yeah. I’m good, thanks,” Keith said in a hushed tone, giving Lance an apologetic smile. “Sorry that got so… out of hand.”

Lance shook his head from side to side. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, man. He was a dick. Whatever happened between you two, I can tell it had you shaken up pretty bad.”

“Yeah. Our past isn’t pretty.” That would be putting it mildly, Keith added mentally. “But I’m getting past it. Seeing him get arrested for being a muffin thief definitely helps.” Both boys have a brief chuckle at the memory, watching the normally suave and composed man being escorted out the door by the police. Neither could think of any reason that Lotor would ever return to the shop after that, even if he didn’t get arrested. The sheer embarrassment would be better than any restraining order.

“Oh, and in case you were wondering…” Lance began, glancing off to the side, grabbing Keith’s attention. “The second that guy started yelling at you, I hit the silent under the counter. I didn’t see that whole situation going well and figured backup may be a good idea… And as for the whole muffin thing? Well, I know those officers. They love our muffins. Like, REALLY love our muffins. I see them in here like every day asking for half a dozen. I figured that the idea of a man putting them in danger would be more incentive for them to give that British twat the boot out of here.”

Keith stood there in awe. Lance, someone he just met, someone who didn’t even know his name, triggered a security alarm for him. He brought police officers into the store to get them. He exploited the apparent weaknesses of those police officer by lying to them. He broke multiple protocols (and perhaps the law?), all to get him out of trouble with his ex. He may very well get fired from his job when his boss found out what he’d done. 

It was then, Keith realized that this man was either insane, completely bonkers crazy… or he was incredibly kind. Willing to sacrifice everything he had just to save someone else from danger. Ready to drop every societal norm, break all the rules, and put himself on the receiving end of trouble, just so someone else could have even a slightly better day…

Maybe a bit of both. He did just frame someone for a muffin heist… 

Keith wanted to know though. He wanted to know exactly who Lance was. He wanted to know whether Lance was cuckoo or if he just had a big heart. He wanted to know what his life was like, how it shaped him to be who he was today. He wanted to know what people made him who he was. He wanted to know every last minute detail of Lance, from his favorite food to how he liked his coffee, to what time he woke up in the morning for work; whether he went to school, what he loved to do in his free time, whether he was born here or if he immigrated from Cuba. 

He wanted to know Lance. He wanted to spend every day learning more about Lance. He wanted Lance to want the same about him. He wanted to sleep in bed with Lance, and wake up next to him the morning after, seeing how the white sheets of his bed and the bright morning light shining in from his window creating a contrast with Lance’s caramel-colored skin.

He wanted Lance. He wanted him bad.

“Very, uh… clever.” Sweet, reckless, incredibly stupid, unbelievably kind. More words he wished he could say but couldn’t. He could, however, say his name. “I’m Keith, by the way,” Keith said, unsure of whether Lance had heard Lotor constantly calling his name or if that part was skipped in the interest of de-escalating the situation.

Lance smiled back at him. “Ah, so that is your name. Wasn’t sure,” he said with a chuckle. He held out his hand. “Again, I’m Lance. Nice to meet you, Keith.”

Keith was hesitant at first. If he shook Lance’s hand, what would that mean to Lance? Would they be friends? Would Lance see Keith was interested in him? Or was this only a customary gesture used after such an exchange? All the same, any of the above options felt better than not shaking Lance’s hand and giving off the impression of Keith being an ungrateful ass. 

Keith grabbed hold of Lance’s hand. It was warm, and surprisingly smooth. His grip was firm, but not hard. Just like before, the negative emotions were quickly fading away from Keith’s mind. Instead, he was filled with thoughts of what it might be like to hold that hand while walking along the beach, in the park on their way to a picnic, at an alter…

Keith quickly shook these thoughts from his mind. They’d just met for god’s sake! The last thing he needed was to be fantasizing about a random guy, who just happened to get him out of a tough situation, that may or may not be interested in him. More importantly, what was he looking for down the road? Did he want kids? Would he be ok with not having kids?

He wanted to ask so many things, but another look into Lances deep, mesmerizingly-blue eyes, coupled with his hand in direct contact with his own, the only coherent words that Keith could come up with were, “Go out with me.”

Very quickly did Lance’s eyes widen at Keith’s words, the latter only realizing he’d said them by Lance’s reaction. His mouth fell agape, and some pink could be seen staining the edges of his cheeks. The soft, awkward sound of an “Uh…” could be heard escaping Lance’s lips as Keith prayed to whatever was holy to open up a hole in the floor to swallow him. He wanted to escape the embarrassment as fast as possible, and instant death seemed like a good option at the moment.

Against his better judgement, Keith willed himself to keep talking. “I mean… to thank you. You, uh… really helped me. You went to a lot of… trouble, and I wanna repay you.” Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! STUPID! Keith continued to berate himself mentally for what seemed like an eternity. He might have just ruined his chance with what may very well be the most gorgeous and considerate man on the planet, and then he went and made it worse by making it seem like he wanted to go out with him out of gratitude? 

“S-Sure, that’d be awesome!” Or not...

Keith was flabbergasted. That actually worked?! “Wha- Really?”

Lance chuckled, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward fashion and glancing away. His mouth was tugged up in an odd grin. “As long as you forget the repaying thing don’t mind calling it a date. You know, that thing that happens when you find someone really nice and cute and want to get to know them better?”

Keith was half tempted to look up at his forehead, wondering if someone had put a sign on his head that was somehow broadcasting his thoughts in written form, but was more focused on forcing his head to nod. Yes. God yes! Holy crap, I’m going on a date with a sexy Cuban, yes!

“Great!” 

Keith felt his arm being tugged and his jacket rolled up his arm. He watched Lance procure a pen from the pocket of his work apron and start writing on his skin. Keith groaned at the slight sting that came from a ballpoint pen running across his forearm, but Lance’s fast writing made it very quick to put up with. 

Only seconds after he started had Lance stepped away, letting Keith see what he had done. He blushed more heavily at the sight of a phone number – Lance’s phone number – written clearly across his arm, with a short message underneath it.

Nice to meet you, Keith! <3  
-Lance

Keith didn’t even have time to feel giddy about what Lance had done before they both jumped at the sound of a very loud, very angry voice, shouting behind them. “LANCE DID WHAT!?”

Lance’s cheerful expression quickly fell, replaced with a look of panic. He flashed a lopsided grin Keith’s way and waved him off. “I think that’s my cue to get back to work…” he mumbled nervously. “Oh!” he reached over the counter and pulled out a to-go cup filled with coffee and a small, brown paper bag with something relatively heavy inside of it giving it its shape. “Your order. Enjoy! Text me when you get a chance!”

“LANCE!” That voice sounded like it was coming after Lance on a warpath, but Lance quickly shoved the order into Keith’s hands and pushed him out the door of the shop before Keith could even offer to help. He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye as the door shut, the last words he heard from Lance being “CORAN, I CAN EXPLAIN!”

Keith decided that Lance could (hopefully) handle himself with who he assumed was his boss yelling at him, and began to walk back to his apartment. Along the way, he found a bench sitting on the sidewalk and took a moment to sit down, going over the events of today in his head.

Keith was pissed with Shiro over him getting more involved in Keith’s love life than he wanted, and so he stormed off. Then, he ran off to the nearest coffee shop, and ran into his ex. The man used his controlling and manipulative methods to make Keith start to think there may have ever been a future for them after the night Lotor attacked him. Keith would easily classify this day as crap from start to finish, sending him on a rollercoaster ride of emotions between being mad at the closest person in his life to being almost lured in by someone who had hurt him immeasurably…

If not for Lance. Lance, this random boy, who he had just met today, who he knew nothing about, had swooped in and somehow made this day much more bearable. No, he managed to take a bad day and make it great. Before, Keith was too focused on the idea of finding someone who didn’t want children, and nothing else beneath that seemed to matter. Now? After Lance rescued him from Lotor, after he sucked the bad feelings right out of him with nothing more than the touch of his hand, after he’d turned Keith into a stuttering mess, Keith was sitting on a bench and couldn’t wait to see Lance again. 

Keith didn’t care if Lance wanted to have kids or not. He cared about that feeling of being happy. He cared about the thought of all of his worries being taken away by a single touch on the shoulder. His past with Lotor dissolved, something that had tortured him for months. He had almost given up on dating again, afraid to be hurt and betrayed like Lotor had done to him, and now he was fantasizing what he would wear on his date with Lance. He was thinking about how nice it would be to have Lance’s long arms draped over his shoulder, pulling him into a warm embrace. He was imagining how it would feel to have Lance’s lips planting chaste pecks all over his face, eventually finding home on Keith’s lips and sucking out every demon within Keith with just a tender, heartwarming kiss.

Just that one encounter had put his mind on another track entirely. Before, while mad at Shiro, the only thing he could think about was his failures. Now that he was calmed down, he could see how much he had succeeded in. 

It took him an extra year to finish high school, but that extra year gave him the time he needed to prepare himself. He graduated top of his class, his grades far beyond what he thought he was capable of.

Keith did terribly in his first year of university, but it also showed him what career path he shouldn’t be following, not if it made him miserable and confused. He had just returned to school last September, the same university but a different field, and this field was something that he found to be empowering, and gave him a passion that pushed him to study as hard as he possibly could. He now saw what he wanted to do with his life, and he was ready to work his ass off for it. 

Keith now had a job that he didn’t find repulsive. He had coworkers that he liked. Working his last two jobs was brutal, but now he was debt free, and he made enough in that period that he could avoid student loans entirely. His new job, working as a mechanic in a bike shop near his apartment, gave him a sense of accomplishment, and he made enough money that he could afford to move out and rent his own apartment near the university.

Keith had dealt with a lot of crap growing up, but he was finally beginning to make a difference now. He was on his way to a long, happy, successful life. The idea made him chuckle; him, orphaned by the disappearance of his mother and death of his father, a university student, a high school graduate, and he had his own apartment at the age of 22. He wasn’t picking fights with anyone like he used to. He had a caring brother, a sister-in-law that was equally as kind, and a nephew that was so full of energy that it made Keith tired just watching him sometimes.

Damn Lance, making Keith feel proud of himself like this.

Feeling the warmth of his coffee seeping through the takeaway cup and onto his hand, Keith was reminded of the snack that Lance had risked his job getting for him. He decided that this topsy-turvy day could take a 5-minute coffee break, considering Keith was starving and exhausted after the events of the day. 

He propped open the top of the coffee lid, and pulled the oddly decorated muffin out of its confines. He was tempted to take a sip of the coffee first, but was more tempted by the pastry in his fingertips instead. Keith figured if it was so good that cops would be arresting Lotor over it, it was worth a try.

Keith took one bite of the balmara, his teeth tearing into the soft, freshly-baked pastry, and as it collided with his taste buds, his mind immediately went blank.

He placed the coffee cup on the ground beside his leg, freeing up one hand, and used it to produce his phone from his jacket pocket. He glanced at his arm, very quickly memorizing the number, and used it to create a text message for Lance.

‘Hey, it’s Keith.

Just wanna say… the idea of Lotor stealing those muffins is a crime against humanity. Hope he gets locked away for good.’


End file.
